


The Reunion

by buvkissteves



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, THE REUNION WE DESERVE THAT MARVEL WONT GIVE US, because its what they deserve, its mostly fluff, sex but not described too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buvkissteves/pseuds/buvkissteves
Summary: “Hiya baby doll,” he whispered by Steve’s ear.Steve chuckled, and Bucky felt it all over his body. They pulled apart because they had no choice, and Steve’s hand lingered on Bucky’s arm, moving down from his shoulder to his wrist. “How’ve you been Buck?” he asked, tilting his head and smiling, and God Bucky was so in love with him.“Not bad,” Bucky smiled back. “For the end of the world.”





	The Reunion

Bucky was shaking with anticipation.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this excited—well, no, actually, he could remember _now_ because Princess Shuri of Wakanda had fixed him. She had given him a new arm and a new brain (practically). He wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. He knew he went by a new name in this place, White Wolf they called him, but he didn’t go by that in his head.

He was finally, finally, just Bucky.

The hellicarrier was landing, it was huge and black, and Bucky didn’t care about it at all. But he smiled anyway. He knew who was on that ship, who would be walking out of it. That person, and what that person meant, that was the most important part of Bucky being himself again. He had remembered most of it, the good things, when they had fought against Tony Stark, but Shuri had made it so he could access all of it. Nothing was in the dark parts of his mind anymore. So he remembered every touch, kiss, and conversation.

“Relax, Mr. Barnes,” King T’Challa smiled over at him. He was surrounded mostly by his guard, but Bucky was next to him, close, so that when he would see _him_ he could just go for him.

Bucky couldn’t help smiling. “Do you think he’ll recognize me?” he asked jokingly, knowing that he had not changed so much.

T’Challa answered the same way he always did, with grace, understanding, and kindness. “I believe that Captain Rogers would know you in any lifetime.” He looked over to Bucky, who felt himself _glowing_ from the acknowledgement of their relationship. T’Challa chuckled and patted Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky grinned back at him—a foreign feeling on his face, as for so long, he had not known what it meant to smile.

Finally, _finally,_ it landed.

It powered down, and it opened up for him.

Faintly, Bucky was aware that Steve Rogers was being flanked by two people. But he couldn’t see them, not really. Because all he saw was Steve. Steve walking down, with his hair _so long_ now, compared to how it used to be, swept back from his face. And Bucky inhaled, because _fuck, Steve has a beard now and man that’s doing things._ But it wasn’t about how good Steve looked, including the fact that the darkness of his suit made him look so _powerful,_ but it was about what Bucky felt inside of him. Seeing Steve was that last piece coming together, it was _everything._ He was safety, he was home.

“Steve,” he breathed, and because he couldn’t help it, he walked forward.

Steve smiled, and it was as beautiful as Bucky remembered. It was golden sunlight, and it streamed into Bucky’s entire body, lighting up his veins, his soul. Bucky already had his arms out, just like he did when they were living together in that shit apartment, and Steve would be cold, and Bucky would just hold out his arms, so Steve could walk into them. Steve was taller now though, thanks to the serum that he got all those years ago. They were the same build though, more or less, so now, Bucky didn’t feel bad when he walked hard into Steve’s body, pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

Steve held him back just as tight, tucking his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, his nose brushing right behind his earlobe. Bucky wanted so much, wanted to say so much, wanted to kiss him breathless. What he did say was, “Hiya baby doll,” he whispered by Steve’s ear.

Steve chuckled, and Bucky felt it all over his body. They pulled apart because they had no choice, and Steve’s hand lingered on Bucky’s arm, moving down from his shoulder to his wrist. “How’ve you been Buck?” he asked, tilting his head and smiling, and _God Bucky was so in love with him._

“Not bad,” Bucky smiled back. “For the end of the world.”

Another voice, one Bucky had no preference for said, “You seem awfully chipper for a guy who keeps getting unfrozen just to fight a war.” It was the girl, Natasha. Yes, Bucky remembered her too, but he didn’t want to deal with her, or that part of the past anymore. Bucky looked around, and Sam was there too. He was sticking close to Steve, because they were friends, and that was all fine and good but he knew Sam was _protective_ over Steve in a way that Bucky was not used to. He didn’t know how to share. Not Steve.

King T’Challa walked up to them, his hand out to shake Steve Roger’s hand. “It is a war we all must fight. Hello Captain.”

“Just Steve. We have a lot to talk about.”

Bucky smiled. Just Steve. Just Bucky. He would listen and talk for however long they needed, because tonight was theirs, and theirs only—it was promised to them by the King.

 

* * *

 

“It shouldn’t be this awkward, right?” Bucky asked, grinning at Steve from across the room.

Steve Rogers smiled, and it was beautiful and warm and Bucky would never grow tired of it. “It’s been a long time.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky shook his head. “I remember everything.”

“Alright,” Steve rubbed his beard, and looked down at his suit. Slowly, he took off his gloves while he said, “Alright, let’s regroup.” He motioned to the center of the room.

It was a very intimidating room. Not a lot of space, but a very big bed. And Bucky knew that he could do it, obviously, and he knew that it would be easier, since they could both keep up on each other now. Before it was Steve who was too sick, and then Steve had to be careful with Bucky, but now they were the same. But still, they hadn’t touched each other for more than seventy years. That certainly did things.

Bucky nodded and swallowed, each of them walking forward slowly. “T’Challa has been very kind to me,” he murmured. Small talk, small talk worked.

“He is a very kind man,” Steve swallowed, looking over Bucky’s features. Bucky watched him swallow, watched Steve’s eyes get a little glassy. “Buck…”

“Stevie?” Bucky whispered, and then he was rushing forward, and so was Steve, and they couldn’t help it, they grabbed for each other and kissed.

Bucky moaned at the same time that Steve whimpered. Steve’s hands swept into Bucky’s longer hair, like he had always done, and Bucky’s hands wrapped around Steve’s body, like he used to do. Except now his arms weren’t being careful, he was clutching him tight, holding him as close as possible. Their lips were frantic against one another, messy and hurried but familiar and loving all the same. They were hungry for each other, they had been starving—because it was not about lust, it was about love, and they had lived without each other for much too long.

“I missed you,” Steve pulled away, and his eyes were shining. A tear fell, and Bucky kissed it away before it could make the whole run down his face. “I missed you so much Buck.”

“I missed you too baby,” Bucky nodded, kissing him again, holding him tighter still, his lips moving from his lips to his cheeks, to his neck, and all the while he whispered, “Baby, my Stevie…”

Steve, like he did then, shivered when Bucky spoke to him like that. “I thought you said you felt awkward.” He chuckled, and Bucky grinned when he pulled back, running his hands through Steve’s hair.

Bucky shook his head. “For a second,” he admitted. “But…” he ran his hands over Steve’s broad shoulders. “Not now.” His hands moved up his neck, to the side of his face. He looked into Steve’s eyes and saw a familiar look there, that he had seen twice before—once when they were fighting each other, and once when he had to fight his friends. It was when he actually looked older, like the elder man he actually was. Someone who was tired. Someone who had seen more than he had wanted to and hadn’t seen enough good.

Bucky whispered, “You’re different.”

Steve’s lips turned into that half smile that he sometimes wore when he was embarrassed. “Don’t like the beard?” he asked.

“No you look good.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?” his hands were on Bucky’s hips, and he actually seemed playful. “I didn’t know about it at first, but it’s growing on me. I feel older.”

“You are old, Steve.”

“So are you, pal.”

“We’ve definitely had this discussion before.”

“Yeah well,” Steve shrugged with a small chuckle. “We’re senile old men, we’re always repeating ourselves.” But then he sighed. “But that’s not what you meant.”

“You’re tired,” Bucky murmured, his nails scraping through Steve’s beard, and then moving to the circles under his eyes. “Not just physically, right?”

Steve sighed. “Right.”

“How tired?” he whispered, fear creeping on him. Bucky would do whatever he would need to keep Steve alive, but if Steve was too tired, _that kind of tired,_ then Bucky would figure out a way to follow him. They had spent too long apart. He couldn’t, he _wouldn’t_ —

Steve kissed Bucky’s forehead. “I see the wheels turning in your head Bucky. It’s not like that. There’s just been a lot of war and not enough of you.”

Bucky nodded, relief flooding him. “We have tonight.”

“We have tonight,” Steve nodded. “You’re different too now, you know.”

“Yeah well, how many times have I gone through changes?” Bucky murmured lightheartedly.

That made Steve sad for a moment, but he continued to smile softly. “You look better.”

Bucky nodded. “I feel good. I feel like me, from even before our war.”

“Ah,” Steve titled his head back, and Bucky gave into his impulse and leaned forward to kiss his neck. “That Bucky was cocky.”

“I’ll show you cocky, tough guy.”

Steve chuckled and moved their faces so their lips brushed. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Bucky breathed.

Their kisses began again, less messy now but remaining frantic all the same. They couldn’t stop devouring each other, and with a quiet “Do you wanna?” from Steve, with Bucky nodding so much he felt his neck cramp, they began their descent into each other. Their suits came off slowly, because they were so busy kissing each other, making up for all the years they hadn’t kissed each other. Steve’s lips were soft and loving, full, his tongue smooth against his own. Their hands swept over each other’s bodies, and when they were finally undressed, Bucky stopped kissing Steve just so his eyes could swallow Steve up.

Steve flushed, with his whole body. “Stop lookin’ at me like that Buck,” That Brooklyn accent was always heavy when Steve got like this.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky breathed.

“Buck,” Steve pulled for him, grinning. “You’re such a sap.”

“Look who’s talkin’,” Bucky’s accent revealed itself as well, as they reverted to their old selves, and became one with each other.

Their kisses were gentle now, taking their time, their hands roaming over each other’s bodies. They walked backwards to the bed, where Steve whispered, “Let me take care of you Buck,” but Bucky shook his head, and pushed Steve onto the bed, moving down lower and lower before he took Steve into his mouth, and the warmth from Steve spread through his body. Steve’s moans spurred him forward, because _fuck_ it had been so long since he had made Steve sound like that.

Steve’s whispers of “ _Bucky, Buck, baby,_ ” were enough to make him rut against his hand—he was so needy. He moved off and kissed Steve again, and their warm bodies slotted together. Steve rolled them around, and _wow the feel of his beard on Bucky’s body was more than interesting,_ and there was whispers of—

“Slick?”

“I don’t…damn, I don’t got…”

“Spit, just spit.”

So Steve did as he was told, and Bucky’s heart was bursting, _bursting_ out of his chest, and after what felt like a century of waiting, he felt Steve’s finger push inside him and it was almost enough to send him flying, and when Steve started to move, it _did_ send him over the edge. Steve’s eyes glowed and he murmured, “Damn Bucky, you’re so pretty for me,” and Bucky _keened._ And because he was a super soldier, Steve pushed him, because it had been long, but he also had stamina. So Steve got him back to where he needed them, and Bucky began to pant shamelessly.

“Stevie, doll, please…” he begged.

Steve kissed him until they were both breathless, and finally, _finally_ , he pushed in. And it was everything. It was everything Bucky had been missing and needing. It was so much better than just _remembering._ It was—

Steve moving in and out of him, kissing every bit of skin he could get his lips on.

Bucky holding his gaze, making sure Steve felt just how much he felt in that moment.

Bucky raking his hands along Steve’s back, Steve shivering and moaning in Bucky’s ear.

It was—

Bucky whispering, “Faster,”

Steve whispering, “ _Jesus, Buck_ ,”

It was Bucky getting his release first, whimpering and feeling _good_ and maybe he cried a little because Steve kissed a tear away, but he was allowed to cry after being so empty for so long and now he was _full._

It was Steve becoming undone inside of Bucky, twisting their hands together, becoming a mess of heated, “I love you Bucky, I love you.”

It was Bucky saying it back with so much feeling. “I love you too Steve. Always have.”

* * *

 

They lay in bed for what felt like hours—maybe it was, neither of them knew. They were laying on their sides, looking at each other. The sheet was over them haphazardly, not that either of them were cold or cared about it at all. They were busy caressing each other and speaking. Steve’s hand moving over Bucky’s features, through his hair, his neck, his collarbone. Bucky doing the same to him. Each of them committing everything to memory.

Steve murmured, “How long have you loved me?”

Bucky smiled. They used to play this game during the war, to forget about what was going on around them. “Since the moment I met you.”

“That long huh?”

“That long.” Bucky nodded. “From the moment I met you, I looked into those eyes of yours and I was gone. How long have you loved me?” he asked in return.

“It crept up on me.” Steve admitted. “I always knew, but I think my heart was ahead of my head.”

“You always were a little slow.” Bucky laughed, flicking his fingers on Steve’s forehead.

Steve rolled his eyes playfully and moved forward to kiss Bucky softly. “You’re a punk.”

Bucky responded, “That’s my line, jerk.”

Steve became somber within the blink of an eye, and whispered, even lower now, “How long have you missed me?” he sighed, moving forward and pressing his head against Bucky’s chest, lowering himself so he could hear Bucky’s heartbeat.

Bucky kissed the top of Steve’s head. “Even when I couldn’t remember you, I missed you.” And there was nothing more true than that statement.

Steve’s arms tightened around Bucky. “Promise me Buck, promise me you won’t leave me again.”

Bucky did promise. He had promised the moment he had woken up that he would make sure that no matter what happened from then on in—no matter how bad it got, he would make sure he’d follow Steve. Alive or dead. There was no other way. Not anymore. “Never Steve. I’m with you,” he smiled, closing his eyes and holding the love of his life as close as he could. “Till the end of the line.”

And they didn’t let go of each other, for the rest of the night.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING
> 
> if you love these soft boys give it a kudos and drop me a comment!


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